Smile Pretty For The Camera
by willnotfly
Summary: It was just temporary, the label said. A publicity stunt to further both of their careers. It turned out to be a little bit more. Shane/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Camp Rock, or any of its characters. I just like to manipulate them for my entertainment.

**Summary:** It was just temporary, the label said. A publicity stunt to further both of their careers. It turned out to be a little bit more.

**A/N:** This is my first Camp Rock piece and the first time I've written anything in a while, so please be gentle. Oh, and I swear, so my characters occasionally do, too.

**Chapter One**

"_We are such stuff as dreams are made on."_

_William Shakespeare_

Quinn had never really enjoyed being the center of attention. She'd always much preferred being on the outskirts of a crowd where she was able to keep an eye on everything that was going on. Most people assumed her to be extremely shy, as she mostly avoided speaking in large crowds, but really she just liked to observe without interfering. This habit let her pick up on the more subtle things that were happening around her, and she felt she was able to read people fairly well.

The girl was of average height and average weight, with a slim, athletic build. Her expressive green eyes were set in a heart-shaped face, and they peered at the world with slight cynicism. She had small yet full lips, set in a bit of a natural pout. Her nose turned up a little at the end. A smile was often pasted to her face, especially since there were now often cameras trained on her. Sweet and caring, she was fairly easy to get along with, though she had a bossy, bitchy streak that reared it's head if you got on her bad side. Sarcasm was a tool that she wielded well, and not everyone got her slightly twisted sense of humor. Just your average young woman, she'd say.

Bored one day, a fourteen year old Quinn picked up her mother's old, beaten up, acoustic guitar and her love affair with making music began. Four years were spent in the basement of her family's suburban home, strumming chords and stringing together melodies. Four years were spent scribbling song lyrics on any available scrap piece of paper. Four years, until her family and friends decided that she was too talented to be wasting her time only playing in a dark basement. Then it took one month, two weeks and five days to convince the stubborn eighteen year old to perform at the open mic night at a local coffee shop. Fifteen open mic nights at nine different venues passed before a talent scout took notice of her.

Then everything happened in whirlwind.

The first single that she'd released had done decently on the charts, and the second was a hit. The music video that followed was well received by most of the critics, and a fan base began to build. Then there was a flurry of interviews, in magazines, for the radio, on television. The press was fond of her soft spoken, sweet nature, and they were amused by her often sarcastic sense of humor. She was smart, polite, and talented. The quintessential good girl. Her label was eating up all the good press. Her star was on the rise.

That's why she now sat in shock in her manager's office, her green eyes wide as saucers and completely speechless. The manager, a Mr. Geoffrey 'Call me GP' Prapp, was propped against his desk, arms crossed, waiting for her to regain her ability to speak. He'd just dropped a bombshell on her, and he wasn't heartless enough not to give her enough time for it to sink in. He felt a little sorry for the girl, but his hands were tied. He was an agent of the label, and their will was his duty to carry out. GP knew she wouldn't take the news well. She hated being in the spotlight more than necessary for the job, and this was going to thrust her into a storm of paparazzi.

Quinn blinked slowly, trying to focus her thoughts. This meeting had taken a hugely different direction than what she'd expected. This was not a meeting about the upcoming release of her CD. Well, she supposed in a round about way it was, as it was a way to promote it, but it wasn't anything near what she'd expected. Her brain wasn't computing how this was possibly happening to her. It was a ridiculous notion. They couldn't make her do it, they couldn't!

"No," she finally said, the word ringing softly through the somewhat stuffy office air. "I won't do it. You can't make me."

Geoffrey sighed, shaking his head, "Yes, we can. If you don't go through with it, you'll violate your contract and the label will drop you. Your record won't be released. You'll end up as just another one hit wonder, as much as I hate to admit it."

"That's bull shit. You people have no right meddling in my personal business. Especially my romantic life. I won't debase myself by prancing around with someone who I have no interest in to promote my music. I won't," she snarled. She was up on her feet now, pacing back and forth across the room, face drawn into a dark scowl. "I'm nineteen. I'm an adult, not a child to be ordered around. This is not a point-and-obey situation."

"I'm afraid it is. Believe me, Quinn, if it were up to me I wouldn't be forcing this issue. But the label thinks it's the best way to turn you into a household name, and whatever the label wants the label gets," he rubbed his eyes, tired and stressed, before continuing. "Just think, you won't have to do it forever, it's not like we're asking you to marry the boy. We just think that linking your name with his will do a lot of good for you."

"I've never even met him! And from what I've seen in the press, he doesn't really seem like someone I ever want to meet. He's a self-obsessed, over-indulged, snotty rock star... not exactly my type, GP," Quinn protested.

"The public feeds on romance between celebrities, especially mismatched ones. Suffer through it for a few months, and see what happens. We'll reassess the situation then." His eyes were pleading with her to give in. His bosses would not take no for an answer, and if she refused she'd cause him an awful lot of trouble. His stress factor would go through the roof, and his doctor would ride him about his blood pressure, which would make his wife unhappy, who would then nag him until he wanted to slam his head repeatedly against a brick wall. Life would be so much better if she would just concede.

Quinn bit her lip, deliberating in her head. Yes, it would be good for her career, but was it worth it? And was she a good enough actress that she could pull it off? She'd never been in love, she'd never even really dated since she was horrible around boys she liked. She'd clam up, unable to speak for fear she'd say something stupid and then ruin everything. She'd never been in any sort of relationship. How was she supposed to pull off a fake one with no previous experience? Was it even possible? Especially if she ended up wanting to poke out this boy's eyes rather than spend time with him?

"What is he getting out of this?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Geoffrey smirked. He knew he was winning, that she was giving in. Thank the Lord.

"He's been in a spot of trouble with the press recently, and the label is unimpressed. He needs to take a step back from his stereotypical rocker antics and let the public warm up to him again. If he dates a nice girl whom the press approves of, it'll be easier for him to get back into their good graces."

"And he's up for this? He's given it the go ahead?"

"Of course." He'd been a right little shit about it, actually, GP thought. It had taken three days and approximately six fits before the boy had been coerced into agreeing. It gave GP a headache just thinking about it. He was just glad that Quinn was being more reasonable. If he'd had to watch another door slam in his face, he'd probably have gone insane.

Quinn let out a huff of air, ran a hand through her hair, and nodded. "Fine, I'll do it. But if this turns out horribly, I'm not going to feel bad for you after I push you down a flight of stairs," she smiled wryly. Geoffrey gave a short laugh.

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"Elaina? Abby?" Quinn called as she stepped inside the penthouse apartment that the label had supplied for her, slamming the door behind her. Depositing her sneakers on the shoe rack next to the door, she softly treaded farther into her home. Poking her head into the living room, she saw her friends sprawled on separate couches, eyes glued to the television screen.

"Hey," Elaina greeted her, pausing the movie she and Abby were watching. "What's up? How'd the meeting go?"

Quinn and Elaina had been friends since they'd met in a high school math class. Elaina had actually been one of the driving forces behind getting Quinn to perform in public. Not taking no for an answer, she'd badgered her friend until Quinn had decided that the only way to preserve her sanity was to get out of the basement. Since then, Elaina had supported Quinn's career more than anyone. Currently she was on a break from her university studies and had come to stay with Quinn for a few months.

Elaina had brown, shoulder length hair framing an oval face. She had a pale, rosy complexion and big blue eyes. Only a few inches taller than Quinn, she stood at 5'7", but was constantly teased about her montrous sized feet. Intelligent and independent, Elaina always did quite well in her studies. She had a happy personality, always ready to laugh loudly and smile. She was an amazing friend, always there to listen and offer advice when needed, or to offer fun distractions.

Quinn had met Abby the previous year, when she'd showed up for her first recording session. Abby was the bassist that the label had supplied for the CD, and she and Quinn became fast friends. She and Elaina also got on excellently, and the three of them were practically inseperable. They talked in unison sometimes, since they knew each other's thoughts pretty well, but they tried not to.

Abby had her currently dark hair cut in a chin length style that complemented her round shaped face. Her green eyes always seemed to have a hint of mischievousness behind them, since she was always planning something to help her friends in some way or another. Standing only at about 5'2", she liked to wear high heels so she didn't feel super short. She was a generally cheerful person, but she stored up everything that made her unhappy until she reached a breaking point. It normally took her a few days to bounce back from that point. Abby was extremely passionate about music, and was constantly rocking out to bands that Quinn had never even heard of. Loyal to the core, she was a good friend to have around.

"It was horrible, actually," Quinn moaned, flopping down into an armchair. Her friends were instantly concerned, but waited for her to continue. "They're forcing me to have a fake relationship to appease the press."

"They're what?!" Elaina gasped, eyes widening.

"Can they even do that? I'm pretty sure that's not legal," Abby stated, furrowing her brow.

"They threatened to drop me if I didn't go through with it. They think it will push me to the next level, the household name level."

"That's bull shit!" Elaina swore, indignant.

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"Who are they making you date?" asked a curious Abby.

Quinn bit her lip and winced a little. "Shane Grey."

Her friends were shocked into silence.

**A/N: **Uhhh... yeah. Sorry. I'm pretty rusty. Plus first chapters always require character descriptions which I'm horrible at writing... It should get better, eventually. Haha. Review for love! =)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Camp Rock, or any of its characters. I just like to manipulate them for my entertainment

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews, guys! :) I lalalove you! I hope you like this chapter... it's Shane and Quinn's first meeting!

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**Chapter Two**

"_I have not yet begun to fight!"_

_John Paul Jones_

It had taken approximately ten minutes until Elaina and Abby regained their ability to speak, enough time for her to slip into the kitchen and fix herself a cup of hot chocolate. Elaina was mildly star-struck. She kept repeating his name, eyes wide, trying to make it sink in. Abby was a little more helpful, as her line of work had allowed her to mingle with rock stars of his status before, and offered words of comfort. She knew how much of a dick he was. And Quinn was just shell-shocked, with no idea how her life had turned in this direction.

Now, the butterflies in her stomach were doing their best to find a way out, even if it meant bursting through her skin. Quinn thought she was going to vomit. This date had been hanging over her head like a death sentence ever since that fateful meeting with her manager. Today she would drive to Madison Square Garden to talk over the particulars of the business deal with Shane. Geoffrey would be accompanying her to make sure things went smoothly.

She hadn't slept especially well the night before, tossing and turning, unable to turn off her brain. All she could think about was how unfair this was, and how nothing like this had ever crossed her mind when she signed with the label. She blamed Shane, mostly, for being a big enough of a jackass to force the label into saving his ass. She hated that she was the one that had to put up with him from now on, and that she'd be the one that would have to keep him in line. But she wasn't going to make it easy.

"Pull over. I'm going to throw up," she moaned. Geoffrey shook his head and snorted. He knew that Quinn had a tendency to be overdramatic. This was going to be a long afternoon. He switched lanes and turned, steering the sleek black car into the parking lot. They were there. Quinn groaned. "Please don't make me do this."

"Sorry, sweetheart. No can do," he grinned, parking the car. "Get out. Time to meet your new lover."

"You're the devil," she hissed. Slowly, she pushed the door open and moved out of the comfort of her car. She stared at the building like it was her own personal Hell, fear and hesitation evident in her eyes. She bit her lip as Geoffrey moved around the car and grabbed her shoulders, gently pushing her forward.

"Come on, kid, the sooner we go in the sooner we can get out," he laughed. Her green eyes narrowed and she sent him a hateful glare, but she began walking toward the arena. Slowly. Jesus did she ever want to turn and run in the opposite direction. Maybe go play in traffic. Yeah, that sounded infinitely better than meeting this kid.

It was a good thing GP was there to guide her otherwise she probably would've fallen down some stairs or ran into a wall, because she wasn't paying attention to where she was going. Her mind was just whirling, and she couldn't even focus on any of the thoughts, except for the one that this was going to go horrendously. Her eyes were blank, her face devoid of expression.

Geoffrey shook her a little, and her eyes came back into focus to see a trio of boys on the stage, jumping and running around. She guessed their concert style was pretty high energy, then. That was good, those were the most fun concerts to be at. She smiled a little, but her face fell when she locked eyes with the person she least wanted to see. From his glare she guessed he wasn't excited about this, either. Ugghhhhh. She could feel Geoffrey laughing behind her and she felt a strong urge to punch him in the face.

"Shane!" GP yelled, waving the brooding singer over as Quinn sulkingly crossed her arms. Shane slid the microphone he was holding back into its stand and slowly strode over, jumping off the stage to meet them. Geoffrey was grinning broadly, and he was the only one out of the three that looked remotely happy. Quinn thought he secretly loved her pain; he'd been practically giddy all day. "Shane Grey, I'd like you to meet the lovely Quinn Bradley."

Quinn smiled tightly, her eyes conveying no warmth. "Charmed, I'm sure," she said coldly.

"It's a pleasure," he spat back.

"Alright, kiddies, play nicely," Geoffrey laughed. The two sent him twin glares. Obviously they wished they could be anywhere but where they were, you could see it on their faces. Quinn would even rather be poked by an endless supply of needles than be standing in front of snobby Grey, about to make their 'relationship' official. "So, here's how it's going to work. In public you will act smitten with each other. You will hold hands, wrap arms around each other, smile, and act like any couple in love would. When the tabloids catch wind of this, you will not go out of your way to hide from their cameras. In interviews you will be vague, but will make it obvious that you two are indeed an item."

Quinn huffed. "Are you going to give us scripts to memorize so we know what we're allowed to say to whom? Do you have required pet names that we'll need to call each other? How many times per interview do we need to sigh in a sappy, lovesick way?" she asked, her words laced with sarcasm.

"Can it," GP snapped. "You must go out approximately twice a week, even if it's doing something mundane like grocery shopping or getting coffee. If there's an important party that one of you must attend, the other will be at your side. You will be a smiling, happy couple. Understood?"

"How many teeth does the label want us to show when we smile for the cameras?" Shane growled. Quinn started to smirk but stopped herself. This was his fault, after all, and she wasn't going to find amusement in his bitchiness. "This is such crap."

"Yeah, well, get over it. Being stubborn isn't going to change anything, and it will just make the label come down harder on you. So suck it up," the manager said, rolling his eyes. His sympathy for the two had worn out after he'd had to field dozens of calls from the couple, trying everything they could think of to get out of this. Their whining had pushed him to the level where he enjoyed their misery. "Quinn, you'll be attending the concert tonight and will be on Shane's arm at the after party. Got it?"

"Yeah, whatever," she shrugged, grimacing. She'd been hoping she could curl up on the couch and bitch to Elaina and Abby for the evening before watching a movie or something equally relaxing. Just take herself away from the situation for a few hours. "What are we supposed to say when we're asked how we met?"

"That you fell all over yourself to meet me because you love_love_**LOVE** my band and convinced the label that you had to meet me, and I fell for your charming fanaticism?" Shane suggested.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "People know I have taste in music, thanks, so they'd obviously recognize that as completely false. More like you've been so obsessed with me ever since you saw me in a magazine that you've been sending me concert tickets for months."

"You're a – "

"A-mazing?" she interrupted, not backing down at his fierce glare. "I know."

"Enough! You ran into each other at the studio a few weeks ago and talked for a while. You decided you wanted to get to know each other better, so you've been talking over the phone ever since. Then Shane decided to invite you to the concert as his date," Geoffrey told them, before their fight had a chance to get out of hand. "Now, we're leaving. I noticed some photographers lingering outside on the way in, so Shane you will escort us out and you two will hold hands. Smile pretty."

With that he turned and began walking back the way they'd come in, flipping open his phone to call the label. He'd been told to let them know exactly what had happened at the meeting and he didn't want to make them wait. Quinn and Shane glared at each other for a moment before turning to follow him. Quinn crossed her arms, not willing to relinquish her hand until the absolute last minute. There was at least five feet between them as they walked through the halls.

"I hope you're happy," she hissed, breaking the tense silence after a few minutes. "This is your fault."

"My fault? How do you figure?" he snapped back.

"If you would just act like an adult instead of a three year old we wouldn't be in this predicament," Quinn said, venom dripping in each word. "Thus, your fault."

They'd reached the last door before the parking lot, and he didn't have a chance to respond. The sullen look on her face suddenly brightened into a smile, and she moved closer to him. He rolled his eyes before smiling back at her and wrapping his arm tightly around her shoulders. She slid her arm around his back, leaning into him slightly. They were ready.

It was only a few seconds after they walked through the doors that cameras began flashing. They ignored them, and Quinn looked up at him and smiled sweetly. "I'm so glad you invited me tonight, Shane," she practically cooed. She was glad the photographers couldn't see how sick she felt.

"Yeah, I'm happy we'll finally get to spend more time together," he said softly. His eyes were hard.

When they made it to the car Quinn turned to face him. She smiled before standing on her tiptoes and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I feel like vomiting all over your pretty shoes when you touch me," she whispered harshly into his ear, then broke away and got into the car. "See you tonight!" she said excitedly as she slammed the door in his face.

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**A/N:** Reviews for love!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything that has to do with Camp Rock.

**A/N:** Hey, guys! Sorry this took me a long time to write... I just didn't want to disappoint any of you with this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. You're all amazing and I lalalalove you to pieces! All of your kind reviews made me so, so happy you wouldn't even believe it. So I hope you think this is up to snuff!

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**Chapter Three**

"_Common sense is not so common."_

_Voltaire_

Quinn was fairly positive that the high-pitched screams of the thousands of young girls in the arena were melting her brain. She felt as if she'd walked into a wall of sound when she, Abby, and Elaina had entered the vicinity minutes before the concert was set to start. The headache she'd had since meeting Shane earlier had increased at least tenfold. If GP hadn't been standing only a few feet from her, his eyes watching her every movement, she would've bolted.

Luckily, she had been able to convince her manager that her two best friends needed to be by her side. He'd agreed happily, knowing if the girls were there they would be the ones who took the brunt of Quinn's complaints. The two had agreed to attend the concert to support their friend, and so everyone was happy.

Well, Quinn wasn't ecstatic, but was as happy on the outside as the situation demanded. And wearing her fake smile and the little black dress the label had sent over, she look positively stunning. Elaina and Abby both looked gorgeous, as well. Elaina wore a pale blue dress that made her eyes pop. Abby had chosen a deep purple dress which suited her complexion perfectly. They stood on either side of Quinn, one looking extremely excited and the other mildly bored.

Shane hadn't had time to make nice with her before the show, just nodding a silent hello when their eyes had met. She'd smirked and mouthed 'Break a leg!' before turning back to her friends. There was no reason to wish ill thoughts before the show, and she sincerely hoped that the three put on an amazing show. Though watching her 'boyfriend' trip up wouldn't hurt.

To her surprise, a few songs in she realized she was actually enjoying herself. Their music was catchy and had good, fun beats. She found herself singing along during the choruses. She'd laughed when she'd looked over at Elaina who was dancing up a storm and mouthing all the words. Apparently she'd been a closet Connect Three fan. Giggling, Quinn turned to see Abby doing the exact same thing. That was completely unexpected – Abby generally liked metal bands the most. For her to be rocking out to music that mostly targeted young teenage girls was very surprising. Connect Three was way better than the critics suggested. Looking back toward the stage, Quinn grinned. This wasn't so bad after all.

The concert seemed to fly by and before she knew it the boys were running off stage. Their faces were bright and happy, flushed with adrenaline, though Shane's drooped slightly when he noticed Quinn standing off to the side of the room. The press was just starting to file in and, under GP's glare, Quinn skipped over to Shane to give him a hug and some well-deserved praise. Shane moved his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground. She laughed as he started spinning her around. Her friends would later tell her that the two looked absolutely adorable and that it was a picture perfect moment. The tabloid photographers obviously agreed if the large amount of flashes meant anything.

"You were fantastic out there, Shane!" Quinn said, actually meaning it. "Honestly."

"Thanks," he replied, grinning as he lowered her back down. He looked away and saw Nate waving him over to where the members of the press were waiting anxiously. It was time for interviews, followed by a meet and greet with fans. Very aware that the photographers still had their cameras trained on him, he planted a kiss on Quinn's forehead and then her nose. "Don't puke," he said snarkily.

Quinn restrained herself from gagging, but couldn't stop from wincing slightly when his lips touched her head. "Try to restrain yourself from being yourself. I don't want to end up married to you because you can't not be a jackass," she quietly snapped back before he moved away from her and toward his band mates. She kept a forced smile on her face as Abby and Elaina joined her.

"You guys are so cute together!" Elaina squealed.

"Adorable," Abby chimed in, smirking.

Quinn wanted to roll her eyes, sneer, and say something sarcastic such as, 'Oh, yeah, I'm so glad I realized that incredible asshole is exactly my type – Shane's perfect!'. Some photographers were still snapping pictures of her, however, and so she smiled wider and said instead, "Oh, thanks, guys. I'm so glad I met him. Shane's such a great guy!"

She even almost sounded sincere, too.

"Will we get to meet the band?" asked Elaina, eyes wide with excitement. She was practically bouncing. Elaina had never been surrounded by famous people before, and it was evident in her actions. She couldn't be blamed, though. After all, apparently she'd loved Connect Three for a while.

"We'll be heading to the after party with them. I'm sure Shane will do introductions on the way over," Quinn told her. She glanced over at Shane, who was still expertly fielding questions, and she heard her name shouted by one of the reporters.

"Shane, are you and Miss Bradley a couple?"

He turned and caught Quinn's eyes, smiled like he was completely smitten, winked, then turned back to the reporter. "We're good friends," he replied, still wearing his idiot grin. The press didn't miss the way Quinn's face lit up with the same lovestruck smile when Shane looked at her. They didn't miss the way she melted into his arms when the interviews were over and the meet and greet finished, and he was able to move back to her and wrap her in a tight hug. And they definitely didn't miss the tiny kiss that he brushed across her lips.

Only one saw the slightly sick look on her face that had nothing to do with a lovebug, or the way she blanched a little when he was within a three foot radius of her. Only one noticed that his happy smile didn't match his furious eyes, or how their movements seemed mildly forced. Only one caught the matching sneers on their lips before they kissed. Only one caught it all on camera.

The ride to the party was fairly uneventful. Nate and Abby easily fell into conversation. They'd met before and were friendly acquaintances, they'd just never really taken the time to get to know one another. Elaina, always willing to talk to anyone, started chattering away with Jason. Which left Quinn with only Shane to talk to, who was taking it upon himself to consistently glare at her with a sullen expression on his face.

"I hate you," he muttered after a few minutes.

"Oh, damn, and silly me was thinking you really cared deep down," she shot back with a roll of her eyes. "Seriously, was that the best you could come up with? I thought you could come up with something a little more intelligent. I guess I was just giving you the benefit of the doubt for thinking you were more creative than a three year old."

"Bitch," he retorted automatically.

"Ooo, good one. Really quite clever," she snarked. "Please, continue. Astound me with your wit."

Shane opened his mouth to reply but Nate beat him to the punch. "Okay, children, we get it. Neither of you like each other. Understood. Enough. You guys aren't the only one with reputations and careers hanging on this, so get over yourselves."

Quinn had the decency to look ashamed. "Sorry, I'm not normally quite this bitchy. I just hate not being in control, you know? And he's such a dick." She couldn't help but insert the little jab at the end.

Nate shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "I know, but you'll just have to deal with it now. Welcome to our world."

Shane let out a small sound of protest, but everyone ignored it. "Has he always been this much of a diva?" Quinn asked. "I thought I heard he cleaned up his act a couple summers ago, but I guess that was just a rumour?"

"Uh. No. He briefly acted like a human being for a brief period of time a few years ago, but - "

"But then had his heart ripped out and torn up, and he reverted back to this," Shane interrupted. He looked both furious and heart broken at the same time, and Quinn felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. She had no idea what happened, but it was obvious to see that he was still reeling from whatever it was.

The limo fell silent and stayed that way for the rest of the trip. Nate and Jason stared at the floor, their faces blank of any emotion, while Shane seethed and glared out the window. The three girls just looked at each other, none knowing what to do. They were worried, but what could they say? They barely knew these boys and they had no idea what was causing their anguish. So they sat and fidgeted silently for the few extra minutes it took for the limo to reach the hotel where the party was being thrown. Luckily, the three boys were able to pull themselves together and paste grins on their faces.

All smiles, the couple made the rounds in the large room, making small talk with everyone. They schmoozed like the professionals they were, making GP extremely happy. Then, after about an hour had passed, Shane excused himself from Quinn's side. And she hadn't been able to find him since. Part of her was worried, and the other was pissed. When she'd asked him, Jason had pointed to a small, inconspicuous door that led out of the room.

She'd slowly made her way over to it, stopping to talk to people on the way. She didn't want it to look too obvious where she was going – the paparazzi were everywhere trying to sniff out trouble. Finally she made it over to the door and slipped through it and into a small room. And there was Shane, sitting on the floor, a bottle of whiskey in his hand that was about three quarters empty. He looked up at her, his face devoid of any kind of emotion.

"Oh, it's you," he slurred. "Leave me alone. I don't want you here."

And that's when she got really angry.

"You're drunk?" she hissed. Honestly, how stupid was he? They were trying to better his reputation, that was one of the main reasons behind this whole charade. Yet here he was, ruining what little they had so far accomplished. She wanted to throttle him but settled for grabbing the bottle from his hand. His eyes darkened as she watered a plant with his whiskey.

"Last time I checked I was twenty-two. I don't need a babysitter," he snapped, furious. He stood and moved to storm away but Quinn grabbed his arm before he got very far.

"There are fourteen members of the press circulating this party, looking for a scandal. The head of the label is also in attendance. How well do you think this will go over if they find out you're drunk again? Do you think Nate and Jason will be happy if this is the straw that breaks the camel's back and the band is dropped?" she snarled. Shane paled as he thought of the ramifications of his current actions.

"Shit. What do I do?"

"Sit. I'll go find GP. I'm sure he'll find a way to fix this, you stupid shit," she growled, pushing him down onto a vacant couch before slipping out of the room and back into the party. She saw a photographer lurking near the doorway and she swore under her breath. GP was across the room, mingling with some of the other label executives. Worming her way through the crowd took a few moments, but eventually she was at his side.

"Geoffrey, I need to talk to you for a second," she said quietly, then glanced at his companions. "You don't mind if I steal him away for a moment, do you boys?" she added for their benefit, before grabbing his arm and pulling him back through the crowded room.

"What's going on?" GP asked, concern evident on his face. Quinn didn't answer him, just led him into the side room, where Shane was fidgeting on the couch. GP's eyes darted from Shane, to the whiskey bottle on the floor, to Quinn's furious face, and then back to Shane. "Again, Shane?"

"Sorry," the boy muttered. "Habit."

"You're an idiot," Quinn said, putting her hands on her hips. "What do we do, GP?"

"Take him home. I'll make excuses for the two of you leaving early. I'll call you in the morning," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And it won't be a pleasant phone call, I can tell you that."

The man left, and the other two didn't move. Quinn just stood, glaring at the imbecile before her, and he leaned back with a groan. With a sigh she moved toward him and took a seat next to him. Her anger dissipated somewhat, and she stared at him with a more sympathetic gaze. Whatever had happened those few summers ago had certainly done a number on him. She wondered again what it was, but knew that this was not a good time to ask. They had an escape to make.

"Can you walk?" she asked. "Or pretend you're sober for the time it takes to get out of here and into a taxi?"

"I think so," he said.

"Good, because there's a photographer standing on the other side of the door," she told him. Shane moaned. "I think he knows that something is up. He smells a scandal. I don't know what he'll think of this."

"We could make it look like we had our own little party," Shane said, his words slurring slightly.

"And what, we needed GP to come watch and give us pointers? Yeah, that'll look good on the front page, you moron."

He sighed, eyes roaming around the room and hers did the same. Then, a slow grin formed on Shane's face, and Quinn followed his gaze. A window. They were on the main floor of the hotel, and the window was big enough that they'd easily be able to fit through it. He turned to look at her and she nodded. Standing, they quickly moved toward it and Shane shoved it open and removed the screen.

"After you," he whispered, a smile still tugging at a corner of his mouth.

Quinn shimmied through the opening and found herself in a dark alley. Shane took no time in joining her, then closed the window and replaced the screen as best as he could. As they began to walk closer to the still bustling street, Quinn noticed that he was stumbling a little so she moved closer and wrapped her arm around his waist, moving his other over her shoulder. Together they hailed a taxi.

Thankfully Shane could remember his address despite his inebriation, and it only took the driver about twenty minutes to drive them to his apartment. He was starting to look quite ill by the middle of the journey and Quinn was petrified that he was going to puke on her. He was able to hold it in until they got out of the cab, and he didn't hesitate from emptying then contents of his stomach on the boulevard as Quinn stuffed a few bills into the driver's outstretched hand. Wrinkling her nose, she again wrapped her arm around her boyfriend and led him inside, grateful that the doorman was there to let them in. This doorman was quite used to Shane's antics and handed Quinn an extra set of keys to Shane's apartment that had been made up specifically for this purpose.

Once inside the apartment, Shane stumbled into his bedroom and collapsed on top of his bed. Quinn found a garbage can, emptied it, then placed it next to Shane in case he felt the need to throw up again. She pulled off his shoes and threw them on the floor. Then she moved into his living room and threw herself onto the couch there. It only took about a minute for her to fall asleep.

All in all, it was a fairly eventful night.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay. So, I really hope you liked it. I'm not completely happy with everything in it, but I did what I could. Reviews are love!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Camp Rock, or any of its characters. I just like to manipulate them for my entertainment.

**A/N: **Hello, my loves. Thank you for all you reviews, you are all fantabulous. :) I hope you're all enjoying the story, because I'm definitely enjoying writing it. I'm kind of fond of the way this chapter turned out. You'll find out about Mitchie and there's even a little Shane/Quinn fluff for you! I hope you like it! I lalalalove you all. :)

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"_Say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved."_

_William Congreve_

The sunlight slowly crept through the uncurtained window, illuminating the dirty apartment. Inch by inch it made its way toward a sleeping Quinn, ever cheerful at the prospect of waking someone up. The girl moaned when it finally hit her face, shining brightly on her closed eyelids. Slowly she blinded awake, somewhat confused by her surroundings until memories of the night seeped into her conscious. She groaned again.

Drunken Shane had thrown up twice, somehow managing to miss the garbage can each time – Quinn suspected he'd done it on purpose. She'd woken up to the sound of his heaving both times and, hating to see anyone in pain, took on the role of his nurse. She brought him water and rubbed his back to soothe him back to sleep, then cleaned up the mess on the floor. Then she'd go back to the couch to sleep for a little longer until he'd wake her up again. All together she had probably only managed to catch about four hours of sleep, which was why she was now cradling her head in her hands as she sat on the couch.

After a few minutes of bemoaning the fact that she was awake, Quinn raised her head to glance around the apartment. It was absolutely disgusting. There were take-out containers from a dozen different restaurants strewn across the coffee table and floor, that looked like they'd been there for quite a while. Random pieces of Shane's clothing were everywhere. When she walked into the kitchen she found more empty take-out boxes and saw a large pile of dirty dishes in the sink. The only food in the fridge was a bottle of ketchup, an almost empty jar of pickles, and eleven bottles of beer. And just a glance into the bathroom made her gag reflex act up. A strong impulse to clean hit her, and she couldn't fight it.

Before starting her cleaning spree she checked on Shane, who was still passed out spread-eagle on his bed, and then dialed the number of a company that delivered groceries. Once that was taken care of Quinn began gathering all the clothes she could find and started a load of laundry. A few minutes of searching turned up enough cleaning supplies to tackle the whole apartment. She filled two large garbage bags with take-out containers and other garbage, then loaded the dishwasher to its full capacity. Filling the sink with hot water, Quinn set the rest of the dishes in it to soak while she tidied the rest of the kitchen. After she'd thoroughly scrubbed down the counters, she flipped over the laundry and started a new load, and then it was time to take care of the bathroom. She wished she had a gas mask.

Finally, three hours after she started, the apartment was squeaky clean and lemon scented, and the kitchen stocked with groceries. Quinn was quite pleased with her work. With a feeling that Shane would probably be joining the land of the living soon she began making breakfast. Scrambled eggs, sausages and hash browns were her favourite kinds of hangover foods, and she doubted he'd be sick again when he woke up – the alcohol had mostly all left his system the night before. She hummed a simple melody as she cooked, smiling to herself. She had always loved cooking.

Shane sluggishly shuffled into the kitchen a few minutes later, his dark hair ruffled from sleep and confusion evident in his brown eyes. He just stood silent for a few moments, watching Quinn flit around the room. She stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed him and a blush crept onto her face. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she offered him a small smile and waved a hand toward the stove.

"Morning. Breakfast is almost ready, if you're hungry. How are you feeling?" she asked, an expression of genuine concern etched onto her face.

"Uh... okay, I guess," he said. "You cleaned my apartment?"

Quinn nodded and stepped back to the stove to tend to the food. "I woke up early and had nothing to do. I got groceries, too, because I didn't really feel like eating ketchup covered pickles for breakfast. Is that okay?" she asked somewhat nervously.

"Yeah, of course. That smells amazing," he grinned, rubbing a hand through his hair. His mouth was watering just listening to the sausages sizzling in the pan. If being forced to date Quinn meant waking up to this more often, maybe he'd have to rethink his opinion on the matter. "And thanks for taking care of me last night. I probably didn't deserve your help."

"It was no big deal," she shrugged. She loaded a newly cleaned plate with food and passed it to him along with a knife and fork. After she dished up what was left for herself, she hopped up to sit on the counter and began to eat. "I don't like sitting idly by when I can be helping."

"Still... I've kind of been -"

"A dick?" she interjected with a grin.

"Rude," he finished. "So it was unexpected. I thought you'd just leave me to deal with it myself."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I've been super friendly, either," she said amiably.

They finished eating in comfortable silence, both letting their minds wander. When they were done Shane insisted on doing the dishes, and Quinn didn't argue. With his okay she had a fast shower and put on a t-shirt and pair of his pajama pants that she'd laundered that morning, happy to get out of her dress from the night before. It had been a bitch to clean in. Shane showered after her, and then they were on the couch, randomly flipping through channels on the television as they made slightly awkward small talk.

"Want to play twenty questions?" Quinn asked, fiddling with a stray string on the knee of her pants. He raised an eyebrow skeptically and opened his mouth to mock her – honestly, who over the age of fourteen plays twenty questions – but she cut him off before he could say anything. "It would help us get to know each other better. If we're going to make this dating thing believable we need to know more than each other's name."

Shane rolled his eyes. "You start, then."

"Birthday?" she asked.

"August eighteenth," he told her. "Yours?"

"February twenty-third. Middle name?"

"Michael. Yours?"

"You're just going to copy all of my questions? Cheater!" she laughed. "It's Sophia. What's your favourite colour?"

They continued for a long time. Quinn learned that Shane's parents were still happily married, that he had an older brother named Bryce, his favourite snack was movie theatre popcorn, and he was afraid of spiders (at which point she burst out laughing and he threatened to kill her if she told anyone). She told him about her parents getting divorced when she was still a baby, that she had an older sister named Nicole, an older step-sister named Kaitie, and an older step-brother named Scott. Her favourite snack was chocolate ("Like every other female on the planet," he interrupted) and that her biggest fear was that she'd never get the chance to fall in love ("Yeah, well, spiders are creepy.") They went on and on, learning each other's life stories and quirks, until Quinn's phone started buzzing across the coffee table. Grabbing it quickly, she glanced at the screen and winced. GP.

Hesitantly, she flipped it open and brought it to her ear. "Hello?"

"I've already had to field approximately thirteen calls from the press this morning about the events of last night," her manager growled from the other end. "They all want to know what prompted your early disappearance, and they're smart enough to realize that Shane was mysteriously absent for most of the time you were there. A few noticed him sneak off with the bottle in his hand. How is the stupid shit today?"

"He's fine," Quinn said, her eyes flashing to Shane's.

"They label isn't happy, which means I'm not happy. Are you?" GP snapped.

"Uh, not particularly."

"I can't believe you let this happen!"

"Hey! Uncalled for. What the hell was I supposed to do, put him on a leash? I'm not the one that was chugging back booze!" she hissed at him. "If you recall, I'm the one that rectified the situation, so kindly screw off."

"You're supposed to be cleaning up his image. You were supposed to stay with him all night. At no point was whiskey supposed to enter this equation."

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't accompany him to the washroom and hold his hand while he pissed. Shame on me!" she snarled.

"Put Shane on the phone," he said darkly. Quinn passed the phone off quickly. The less time she spent getting bitched at the better. While Shane mumbled apologies to a yelling GP, she sat seething on the couch. She hated getting blamed for things she had no control over. Her good mood was shattered, and she wanted an answer that had nothing to do with favourite foods or best memories. She waited impatiently until Shane hung up the phone.

"Well, that was pleasant," he snapped as he flipped her phone shut and tossed it onto her lap. "I need a beer."

"I think you ought to lay off of the alcohol for a bit, since it caused this," she angrily replied.

"My drinking habits are none of your business," he spat as he stomped to the kitchen. Quinn trailed behind him, glaring fiercely.

"They are if they get me yelled at! I think it's time you told me what drove you back into your 'bad boy' ways. What happened?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back on the counter while he opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer.

He sent her a withering glance as he cracked the bottle open, "We're not playing twenty questions anymore."

"I deserve to know!"

"Fuck off," he snarled, downing his drink of choice quickly.

"No. Tell me what happened!"

"It's none of your fucking business, you harpy!" he bellowed. She flinched, but refused to give up.

"Listen, asshole, I spent last night cleaning up your puke and the entire morning cleaning your disgusting pig sty of an apartment. I made you breakfast, I did your laundry. The least you can do is tell me what the fuck happened that brought your actions to the point where the label is forcing me to put up with your shit to save your career," she shouted back.

He was silent for a moment, just glaring at the furious girl in front of him. Finally, Shane looked down at his feet and spoke in a quiet voice. "It was a few summers ago. I went to a camp that my uncle runs, Camp Rock, because the label was fed up with me. They wanted me to clean up my act and decided the camp would be good PR. It wasn't long before I met Mitchie.

"She seemed really sweet, and she said her mom was the president of Hot Tunes China, so I thought she knew what it was like not to trust anyone because most people just wanted to hang out with a celebrity. We really connected. Then I found out that was all a lie, that her mom was actually the camp cook. I was so angry. But eventually we made up, and everything was going really great.

"She spent the rest of the summer traveling with me and the band. We kept in contact when she had to go back to school, with phone calls, texting, emails and even the occasional weekend visit. We told each other everything, she was my best friend. We fell in love, or at least I fell in love with her.

"Turns out, Mitchie was quite the actress. She'd kept a file of everything I'd ever told her – over a year worth of conversations about my hopes, dreams, fears, troubles – and the day I told her I loved her she sold it to the tabloids. Apparently she made quite a lot of money. She broke me. She broke me and laughed like it was nothing," he finished sadly, his voice wavering. He looked like he was about to cry. Quinn's mouth was gaping, her green eyes wide. She couldn't believe that people like this bitch actually existed. What kind of a person could do that?

"Shane... I'm so, so incredibly sorry," she said, biting her lip. "That's horrible."

"Apparently she was approached by a reporter right after camp, and the money was too good to turn down," he told her as he grabbed another beer from the fridge. Quinn moved silently behind him when he didn't turn around and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He tensed for a moment, then slowly relaxed. That's the way they stayed for a few precious minutes until Shane pulled away, turning to face Quinn. "So, game over?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yeah, game over."

"Good. I don't want to think for a while. Let's watch a movie," he suggested, and she nodded again. They moved back into the living room and again sat on the couch. Quinn let him pick the movie. He chose a shoot-em up type action film and, with her lack of sleep the night before, she was dozing within fifteen minutes of the opening credits. Somehow she ended up laying across the couch with her head in Shane's lap, and he absent mindedly played with her hair as she slept.

He nudged her awake a couple hours later, his mood significantly better. "Your phone has been buzzing like crazy," he told her, and she flung out an arm to grab it off the table.

She had seven text messages – three from Elaina, three from Abby, and one from GP. Elaina's and Abby's were basically the same, wondering where she was and informing her that if she didn't call soon she was going to be in big trouble. GP's said that their Wednesday meeting was being pushed forward to Monday morning. She sent an 'Okay.' to GP, then an 'I'm fine, I'll be home soon.' to both her friends. The phone rang a few seconds later.

"Where are you?" Abby asked when Quinn answered. "You and Shane disappeared from the party pretty early. Did you kill him?"

"No, I brought him home. I'm still at his place."

"You minx! Did you two have angry, hate sex?"

Quinn blushed and sat up. Shane was smirking, so he'd obviously heard Abby's question. "No, of course not!" she spluttered.

"You should have. It probably would've been amazing."

"Please stop."

"He's right there, isn't he? You're blushing, aren't you? Jump him, and then tell me about it when you get home!"

"I hate you."

"Love you too!" Abby laughed, hanging up. Quinn was completely scarlet and Shane continued to smirk. She refused to make eye contact.

"I knew you wanted to have your way with me," he grinned. "You just pretended you'd rather vomit to play hard to get. I should've guessed."

"Oh, dream on!" she gasped.

"Don't worry, a lot of girls dream of me. I don't blame you."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course, drunken fools have always been my weakness. You caught me, however will I go on."

"Don't try to fight the attraction, it's not healthy," he persisted jokingly.

"I think I'll make it. Just don't puke in front of me again, that's what really makes my heart go wild."

He leaned in closer, smirk in tact, eyes laughing. "You will need to learn to control your gag reflex when I touch you," he said quietly as his eyes flickered down to glance at her lips.

"Oh? And how do you suggest I do that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I've always heard that practice makes perfect," he replied.

He then quickly closed the last few inches between them and pressed his lips to hers. After a second of shock she eagerly responded, and his hand wound in her hair while hers found its way to his chest as they lost themselves in the kiss. She pulled back slightly after a couple minutes, and he pressed a small kiss on the corner of her mouth, then another on the tip of her nose. She smiled softly, opened her eyes, then pulled back farther. Her heart was racing. She mentally scolded herself – she wasn't going to let herself get too attached. Not when this was all pretend.

"I should go," she whispered, standing.

"You don't want to stay and practice?" he pouted.

She shook her head. "Nope. No such luck."

"When's our next public appearance scheduled?" he asked, watching her as she grabbed her cell phone and walked to the door. She shrugged as she pulled on her jacket. "It couldn't hurt to pull out the stops to appease the label after last night. Dinner tomorrow?"

"Pick me up at six?" she suggested. When he nodded she gave him her address. Then she was out the door, her lips still tingling and her mind full of dread.

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**A/N: **As always, reviews are love! And I know Mitchie would never act like that... but it's fanfiction so I'm taking liberties with her character. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything that has to do with Camp Rock.

**A/N: **Hey, guys! I'd like to use up this note to briefly express my gratitude to all of you. Thank you to all my reviewers you guys always make me incredibly happy. And thanks to Andromeda Drake and , my betas. And thank you to everyone who reads/favourites/alerts my story... Smile Pretty already has over 450 hits! I'm ecstatic. Thank you all so, so much. =)

I found a quote today and thought I'd share it with you.

"I can't write without a reader. It's precisely like a kiss – you can't do it alone." - John Cheever

See? I need you! Thank you a million times. Enjoy the chapter! I lalalalove you!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"_Kiss me and you will see how important I am."  
Sylvia Plath_

"I'm fairly certain those are not the clothes you were wearing last night, missy," Abby snarkily commented as soon as Quinn stepped into the apartment. Her friend was smirking as Quinn slid off her shoes, and Quinn stuck out her tongue. Abby's arms were crossed and she leaned against the wall.

"I'm fairly certain you should sleep with one eye open, you jerk," Quinn joked. "You caused an extra unnecessary problem in my life."

"You didn't actually sleep with him, did you?" Abby asked incredulously, her eyes widening. Quinn brushed passed her and into the living room, collapsing on the couch. She closed her eyes and tried to wish away the questions of her friend, but it didn't work.

"Of course I didn't sleep with him," she sighed.

"Did you want to?" Abby pressed as she flopped onto the couch next to Quinn. Quinn raised her head to glare at the girl. "Of course you did, silly me. What actually happened?"

Grabbing a pillow and holding it over her face, Quinn's reply was somewhat muffled, "He kissed me."

"Skank! What was it like?" Abby ripped the pillow away.

"I don't know... it was good, I guess," Quinn mumbled, pouting.

"You're blushing! Aww, cute," laughed Abby.

"Shut up," Quinn groaned. "Where is Elaina?"

"Still passed out. Jason kept sneaking her champagne last night. She was pretty hilarious by the end of the party," Abby grinned. "She and Jason were doing some pretty heavy flirting."

"Ah, young love."

"Ha, you're an expert on that, aren't you?"

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"You and Nate looked pretty cozy last night," Quinn said, changing the subject.

"We've met before," Abby said warily. "We're friends."

"With benefits?" Quinn pushed.

"No! I'm a good girl."

"Lies! Blatant lies!"

"I am!" Abby protested.

"Seriously, though, is anything going on between the two of you?" asked Quinn, still smiling. Abby shook her head. "Do you want there to be?"

"Maybe," mumbled a blushing Abby.

"Cute. You guys will have adorable curly haired babies," Quinn giggled.

"I hate you."

"You _love_ me."

* * *

By approximately five to five the next night Quinn was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Shane. She'd been restless the whole day, not even able to focus during her jam session with Abby. Elaina was still mildly hungover and had been camped out on the couch watching chick flicks since she woke up. Abby had disappeared about an hour before, not telling either of her friends where she was headed.

"Stop fidgeting," Elaina commanded. Quinn had been snapping her lanyard in the air for a while and it was driving Elaina crazy.

"Sorry," Quinn replied mechanically and stilled her hand, bouncing her leg instead.

"I'll kill you."

"Sorry. Nervous energy." The door buzzer went off, announcing that someone was downstairs. Quinn practically sprinted to the intercom. Taking a deep, calming breath, she hit the button to answer. "Hi, Stan. Someone here for me?" she asked cheerily.

"Yes, Miss Bradley. A Mr. Grey is here. Should I send him up?" asked the kindly voice on the other end.

"Please. Thanks, Stan," Quinn said. She slowly slipped on a pair of black pumps and slung her purse over her shoulder. She was grabbing her leather jacket out of the closet when there was knock at the door. Her heart started pounding as she slowly pulled the door open.

"Hello, cupcake my love!" Shane smirked. "Ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah. Call me cupcake again and I won't be held accountable for my actions, though." Quinn said. "Seriously."

"Let's go."

Quinn called a goodbye to Elaina, who merely grunted in reply, then she and Shane were off. They stepped into the elevator and stood in semi-awkward silence. Quinn took a moment to subtly check out what Shane was wearing. In dark jeans, a green button-up shirt and a leather jacket, he looked pretty damn good. Quinn felt practically hideous standing next to him. She was wearing a pair of her favourite jeans and a black blouse with a fitted white vest over top of it. She'd curled and pinned her hair, too, and she'd thought she'd looked kind of cute. Now she felt self-conscious and awkward.

"You look good tonight," Shane said, breaking the silence and causing Quinn to jump a little. "And I know I look good, too, so you don't have to worry about saying it."

"Conceited much?" Quinn snipped, rolling her eyes.

"You know you think I'm pretty," he grinned, batting his eyelashes.

"You know I think you're pretty ridiculous," she laughed, shaking her head. "Where are we going?"

"Oasis."

Quinn smiled. Oasis was one of her favourite restaurants. It was pretty low key and casual, and she frequently went there to eat. Also, the paparazzi didn't surround the building as much as they did other celebrity haunts, because not that many famous people went there. There was always at least one photographer lurking around, though.

As the elevator slowed, Quinn laced her fingers through Shane's and pushed herself up on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Shane smirked as the doors slid open – he knew there was a photographer standing in the lobby, camera ready. The bright flash started going off and he tugged on Quinn's hand, pulling her closer to him. He used his other hand to lightly grip her chin and tilt her face up to his, then he gently pressed his lips to hers. She smiled into the kiss and slowly pulled away.

"You're going to give me a complex if you keep doing that," he whispered.

"I'm sure you'll live," Quinn replied in hushed tones, and they made their way out of the building and into his waiting car. It was a short drive to the restaurant and Quinn lightly mocked him on the way.

"You should've picked me up at seven. We could've driven around and seen a movie," she snickered.

"Hardy har har," Shane rolled his eyes. "You're a riot."

"Yes, I am quite clever. Now listen, I've been hurt before so -"

"I don't want to hurt you, I want to kiss you," Shane deadpanned, cutting her off. She just grinned. "Are you finished?"

"Sorry, but that's just the way I roll," she shrugged.

"Really, you should do stand up."

"Aw, cupcake, you sound sarcastic. Something bothering you?"

"Stop making fun of my music. I know you're not our biggest fan but our music means a lot to me. And it's a lot better than the cookie-cutter pop crap that the label used to shove down our throats," he said quietly, anger evident in his voice. "And don't call me cupcake."

"You started the cupcake flinging," she told him, then softly continued. "Shane, I actually enjoy your music. Well, what I've heard of it, anyway. The concert was amazing. I was just joking around."

He shrugged, "Sorry, I've taken a lot of shit about it, and sometimes I just get fed up with having to defend it."

"I'm sorry, too. Just remember that I don't mean anything by it if I joke about it once in a while."

Shane parked and they clamored out of the car. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked towards the restaurant. As the couple rounded the corner they saw an abnormally large crowd gathered at the front doors. Reporters, Quinn noticed when she and Shane got closer to them. Cameras started flashing as journalists rapidly began firing questions.

"Quinn, are you two officially a couple?"

"How long have you been dating?"

"How long have you known each other?"

"Sources say you left the after-party for the concert early, where did you go? Why did you leave?"

"No comment," Shane said, moving his hand to the small of Quinn's back to guide her through the crowd. Both of them had fake grins plastered on their faces. It was much calmer once they made it inside Oasis. "I talked to GP and told him we were going out tonight. He must've tipped them off."

Quinn shrugged, "Meh. No big deal."

They were seated quickly, as Quinn was a favored customer and they were both celebrities. Their table was in a more secluded area, where they were shielded from most curious eyes. Instead of sitting across from Quinn, Shane chose to slide into the seat beside her. When she glanced at him with curiosity, he just smirked. After ordering, they easily fell into a comfortable conversation.

"So, tell me about your sister," Shane suggested a few minutes into their chat.

Quinn smiled, "She's my best friend. I can tell her anything and she's always there for me. She's smart, funny, caring, and pretty much perfect. She's my dad's favourite."

"Your dad's favourite? Parents aren't supposed to have favourites."

"Yeah, well, he was mad that I chose music over school. She went to university, got a good job, and now she's about to get married and have 2.5 kids. Perfect life. Thus, she's the current golden girl of the family."

"That's ridiculous. You're doing really well, too," Shane protested.

"Yeah, well, life goes on. Anyway, Nicole is really great. I don't know what I'd do without her. Though her wedding is driving me a little crazy," Quinn said, smiling.

"She's getting married?" he asked.

"Yeah, at the end of August. She and her fiancé have been together for about six years. I'm her maid of honour, which I'm pretty stoked about, but it's way more work than I thought it would be."

From there they moved on to their favourite music (Quinn really loved Damien Rice, Death Cab for Cutie and Matchbox Twenty, while Shane leaned more towards Kings of Leon and Paramore). Eventually they made it to the topic of his band mates, and Quinn decided to play detective.

"So, you guys had met Abby before the concert, right?" she asked innocently after swallowing a bite of her vegetables.

"Uh, yeah... I think it was about four months ago. Our bassist was having some family issues and we need a stand-in to get our record out on time," he nodded slightly as he explained.

"Oh, she never mentioned it. Have you guys kept in contact with her?"

"Nate has, I think. I stole his phone once and saw that they'd been texting. And he was strangely happy when he dropped by yesterday – said something about having a good night."

Quinn smirked. She'd have to grill Abby about it when she got home. And then tease her mercilessly, just like Abby would tease Quinn. Then they'd turn on Elaina and get her to spill everything about her night with Jason – she was much easier to crack.

The rest of the dinner was enjoyable, and they laughed and joked their way through it. Instead of staying for dessert, Quinn suggested they go for a walk and get ice cream. She figured if the paparazzi were still hanging around it would be a great photo opportunity. GP would be happy, and a happy GP was much easier to deal with than a cranky one. They strolled out of Oasis hand in hand and saw only a few photographers lingering around the entrance.

As they ate their ice cream they slowly wandered around a nearby park. Quinn sat on a swing as soon as she was finished her dessert, and Shane got behind her to push. She couldn't help the large smile that crept onto her face. The whole date just seemed so... perfect.

"So," Shane said as they made their way back to the car. "Best date ever?"

"It doesn't really have any competition. It's the only one I've ever been on," Quinn laughed as Shane's mouth dropped open with shock. She reached over and closed it.

"I call bull shit!" he exclaimed.

"Nope. This is my very first date," she restated. "Honest."

"That's impossible," Shane insisted, unlocking his car and climbing in. She did the same. "How can you be twenty and as pretty as you and never have gone out with anyone?"

"Talent? I don't know. No one ever asked me. Maybe this doesn't count, either, since we're only fake dating," she commented.

"Nah, it counts. I'll even go the whole nine yards and walk you to your door," he grinned.

"Aw, gee, how gentlemanly of you."

"Only the best for you, cupcake."

"Stop calling me cupcake, sugar pie," she snarked.

"Oh, jeez, sugar pie? That's awful," he winced.

"And cupcake isn't?" she protested.

"Cupcakes are delightful," Shane explained. "Sugar pies sound disgusting. Who would eat a pie with a pure sugar filling? Gross."

"So it describes you to a 'T'!" she joked, noticing that they were almost back at her place.

Shane pulled up in front of the apartment building, shaking his head with a woeful expression. "You wound me, cupcake."

"However will you mend your broken heart?"

"One kiss from you and I think I could fly."

"I think I just threw up a little."

They were already through the lobby, and Quinn waved at Stan as they waited for the elevator. It didn't take long for the metallic doors to slid open with a _ding!_ The two stepped into it quickly, and Quinn punched the button for her floor. It only took about three seconds after the lift started moving for Shane to have her backed against the wall, his arms blocking her from getting away. She looked up at him, confused.

"What's a date without a goodnight kiss?" he asked quietly.

Then he was kissing her, and she didn't even pretend to fight him off. Instead, she wrapped one arm around his neck as her other hand tangled in his hair. He had one hand cupping her cheek and the other holding her hip tightly. Tingles exploded across her skin. She'd been kissed before, but it had never felt like this. It was easy to lose herself in the moment, and she was shocked when he pulled away. The elevator doors were open. She was home.

"Knew you couldn't resist me," he smirked as she moved into the hall. He held the door open and she turned around, narrowing her eyes.

"More like you couldn't resist me. It's okay, I'm fairly irresistible," she chirped.

"I'll call you sometime this week to set up our next outing. Goodnight, cupcake."

"Don't call me cupcake!" she shouted at the closing doors, and she heard him chuckle lightly before they slid shut. Moving to her door, she could hear Elaina laughing before she'd opened it. Sure enough, her no longer hungover friend was standing close to the door, a bright smile on her face. Quinn knew Elaina-the-ever-curious had caught some part of the show from the peephole of the door.

"Have a nice time, cupcake?" Elaina asked brightly, trying not to laugh.

"Don't start."

"Is he a good kisser?"

"Yeah," Quinn answered, a bemused look on her face. _An excellent one_, she added silently, still feeling tingly.

And that's when she realized she was one hundred percent in danger of falling for her fake boyfriend.

_Shit._

_

* * *

_

**A/N:** So? Enjoyable? Did you like the Squinn/Shinn/Quane? Haha, yeah, I have no idea what to call the pairing. Choose your favourite and let me know, kay? Reviews are love!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything Camp Rock related or anything you recognize from any other movie or book. Don't sue me, or all you'll get are holey socks and a freezer-burnt pizza pop.

**A/N:** Hello again, my lovelies! I'm sorry this chapter took me so long... it was my motivation vs. my laziness, and my laziness won for a while. And I had a nice little crisis at the beginning of last week, which had me spending a lot of time curled up in bed. Anyway, thank you for your patience and your lovely reviews! This chapter is the longest yet. I got a little carried away. Also, it hasn't been beta-d for grammar or spelling mistakes, so I'm sorry if something slipped passed my eye.

There's a lot of dialogue in this chapter, too, especially on the phone. I don't like writing 'she said' or 'he mentioned' for everything, so hopefully you don't have a problem figuring out who said what. =)

Oh, and I need to change something in the first chapter. Quinn is twenty, not nineteen. This will come into play in a few chapters, so I needed to make a switch. I'll fix it soon.

And in my last author's note, one of my beta's didn't show up. ms . ella, minus the spaces.

Enjoy the chapter! I lalalove you all!

* * *

**Chapter Six**

"_More than Santa Claus, your sister knows when you've been bad and good."_

_Linda Sunshine _

"Shit!"

The front page of a very popular tabloid magazine, _Celeb Watch Weekly_, featured a picture of Quinn and Shane glaring at each other and the headline "True Love? Or Another Puppet Show?". It had caught Quinn's eye as she passed a newsstand on her way to her morning meeting with GP, and she'd almost dropped her coffee in shock. Quickly flipping to the page listed, she groaned. There were half a dozen pictures, all from the night of the concert, that showed their sneering, glaring faces. There was even one of Shane trying to hide his bottle of whiskey next to a picture of a furious Quinn dragging around her manager. The story hinted that readers should be skeptical of this new 'relationship', because reputable sources claimed it to be a publicity stunt.

Thus the swearing. This was not going to be a fun meeting, unless Hell had recently frozen over and GP hadn't found out yet. Unlikely, since the man had the infuriating habit of always knowing everything.

Trying to think logically, Quinn grabbed another tabloid with a much more positive outlook on her pairing with Shane to try and offset the yelling the first one would cause. "Spring Brings Fever of Love" pretty much spouted off exactly the kind of response the label was looking for and – tallying in her head – it was six to one for the couple. _Celeb Watch Weekly _was the only publication that thought their affections were false. So it was a win. She bought all the magazines in hopes of conveying the victory to GP.

Her manager wasn't in his office when she arrived twenty minutes later, but Shane was. She looked at him questioningly as she sat in the unoccupied chair in front of GP's desk. The meeting was supposed to mainly be about the upcoming release of her album, so Quinn was mildly confused as to why Shane would be called in. He had just opened his mouth to start explaining when GP stormed into the room, anger radiating off of his body, and thus Shane snapped it shut in an effort of self-preservation.

"Morning, Sunshine," Quinn chirped brightly, unable to stop herself. She winced and bit her lip. Angry bears were not meant to be poked.

GP grunted in response as he plopped into his chair. Reaching into his briefcase, he grabbed something and threw it onto the desk. Quinn knew exactly what it was before it skidded to a stop in front of her. _Celeb Watch Weekly._ Hell was still nice and toasty, obviously. Shane paled as he caught a glimpse of the cover picture.

"I have my own, thanks," Quinn said, pulling the same magazine out from her stack. Shane grabbed the gossip rag off the desk and started reading to assess the damage they had caused.

"Care to explain?" snapped GP, his eyes narrowed. He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed.

"You were there, so no, I don't feel the need," Quinn shrugged. "You can't have honestly expected everything to go off without a single hitch. We've been forced into a situation that neither of us are particularly happy about. Obviously there was going to be some turbulence at first."

"You are a professional. You're supposed to act like one."

"I'm also a twenty year old girl with a dramatic flair. If I'm told to do something I don't want to do, I still have surges of rebellion. Sorry, my bad," Quinn barked, crossing her arms defensively.

"I didn't expect this type of behavior from you, Quinn. I thought you were mature and responsible. I'm very disappointed in you," GP said calmly, quietly.

Quinn swallowed her retort, tears springing to her eyes. Cold disappointment was much harder for her to take than enraged yelling, and it always had been. She looked down, away from GP's disapproving face, and stared at her shoes as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She refused to cry in front of the man. Luckily, Shane had finished reading and jumped to her defense.

"Leave her alone, Prapp. This isn't her fault, it's mine," he cut in, throwing _Celeb Watch_ back onto the desk. "I'm the one that acted like an asshole to start with that night and I'm the one that drank. My fault. Stop being a dick."

"I expected it from you."

"That doesn't mean you can blame it on her when I'm the one who fucked up," Shane growled. "She stopped the situation before it could get worse, and it definitely would have gotten worse. You should be thanking her."

Quinn gave a quick smile of thanks to Shane and rejoined the conversation. "And that article isn't even that bad. It might even be better for this little stunt, since it'll keep people interested – a riddle for them to unravel. People will eat it up. Plus," she paused, tossing her remaining six magazines at her manager, "most of the reporters took the bait. All six of these articles proclaim us the hot couple of the summer."

GP was quiet as he glanced at the covers of the tabloids. Rubbing his temples, he sighed, then nodded. "No more hiccups, no more fighting in public," he said lowly. It was not a suggestion, it was a demand. The two nodded – that was easily doable, as they'd shown on their date the night before. "Quinn, the release date for your CD is June twelfth. I'm arranging it so you will pick it up at midnight – fans will be able to purchase their CDs then, as well, from certain stores. Please post something on your MySpace about it. I also have a lot of interviews, public appearances and free concerts scheduled to help promote the record. You'll be busy most of the summer."

"You remembered the wedding, right?" she asked nervously. If he hadn't, she was going to be in a pile of trouble.

"Of course. You have a week off surrounding it. Though you could probably do some radio interviews while you're gone."

"Fine, perfect. Anything else?"

"Not today. Janine will give you an itinerary for the summer," he said dismissively. Quinn stood and moved toward the door; Shane followed her lead. "Keep out of trouble."

"Aye aye, Captain," she said, rolling her eyes as she left. Janine, GP's assistant, handed an envelope to the girl wordlessly as Quinn passed her desk. She was on the phone, like always. Quinn did not envy the woman – talking on the phone was one of her least favorite things in the world and she'd do anything to avoid it. Shane placed a hand on the small of her back as they walked toward the elevators. "Thank you," Quinn said quietly, "for standing up for me, I mean."

Shane shrugged, "He was being an ass and didn't really have the right to be."

"Still. You didn't have to say anything. Just... thanks," she smiled softly and he pulled her into a quick hug.

"You're welcome," he said as he released her. They stepped into the awaiting elevator and leaned on opposite walls. "What are you doing today?"

"Stuff for Nicole's wedding. She ordered the bridesmaid dresses from a place here in the city, so I need to check on them. Then I need to find a couple shower presents because there are a few planned in the next little while. And I'm going to see if I can find a wedding present, too. I'm thinking furniture, but I don't know if she registered for any. And then I told her I'd call her to see if I can do anything else helpful from here," Quinn rattled off. Weddings were much more stressful than they looked. "This wedding is consuming my soul."

"When will you be done?"

"I'm not sure. Depends on when I give up. Probably around five or six. Why?"

"Nate is having a movie night at his place. He said to invite you," Shane told her as they walked out of the elevator and through the lobby. "You could invite Elaina and Abby."

"Abby probably already knows," she laughed. "I think she went out with Nate last night. She was out later than we were and is being awfully close-lipped about it."

"I'll try to drag it out of Nate," Shane grinned.

"You're pretty helpful to have around," she commented, her face bright. The two were now on the street, and Quinn raised her arm to hail a cab. One pulled up to the curb seconds later and Shane opened the car door for her.

"So, will you come?" he asked as she slid into the backseat.

Quinn smiled, "Of course. I'll call you when I'm done to get the address."

"Great. Have a good day, cupcake," he laughed and swung the door closed before she could say anything.

Shaking her head with mild annoyance, she turned her attention to the cabby. "991 Madison Avenue, please," she instructed him, unable to keep the small smile off her face.

* * *

Hours upon hours of shopping had mentally and physically drained all of her energy. Quinn was practically asleep on her cab ride home. She decided that when she got married she would elope, if only to spare her family the pain of having to go through another wedding. They'd be annoyed either way, she was sure. She was never right in their eyes, or at least not in her dad's. Her mom was much more supportive and understanding of her choices.

Her phone started ringing in her purse and she groaned. The ring tone that was playing, the Bridal March, meant Nicole and talking about the wedding. Blah. She found her cell and flipped it open before she missed the call.

"Quinn's Shack of Love. We make all your dreams come true," she answered. There was a few seconds of silence on the other side of the line.

"You're weird," her sister's familiar voice came through.

"True story. You think you'd know that by now. What's up, Nikki?"

"You were supposed to call."

"I was going to in a few minutes, once I got home."

"Where are you?"

"Cab."

"Oh. Did you have a chance to check on the dresses?"

"Yeah, they're fine. The woman at the salon said they'd be done in a few weeks. I'll mail them to you. I found a place near you that will do the alterations, though the salon lady nearly had a stroke when I mentioned it today."

"Why?"

"Apparently you don't alter a Vera to fit you, you alter yourself to fit a Vera."

"I see."

"Yeah, I learn the most thrilling things."

"Oh. So. Question."

"Ask away."

"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend?" Nicole's voice was slightly peeved. Quinn sighed, running her hand through her hair while the cab pulled up in front of her building.

"I didn't think you read tabloids," Quinn stalled, paying the fare and gathering the shopping bags that surrounded her. She walked through the doors into the building.

"Kaitie does, almost religiously. You know that. She emailed me, Scott and the 'rents."

Quinn rolled her eyes. Kaitie was too nosy for her own good. Juggling her purchases, she was able to press the button for the elevator. The doors opened promptly, thankfully. If she was going to explain Shane to her sister, she needed to be alone.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" her sister snapped.

"Chill. I was going to bitch at you about the situation tonight anyway. I didn't tell you that I have a boyfriend because I _don't _have a boyfriend."

"About a zillion people say otherwise."

"It's not real. It's a publicity stunt. The label wants to turn me into a household name and Shane needed some good PR. Apparently this was the solution."

"That's ridiculous."

"Well aware of that fact, thanks."

"How long?"

"I have no idea."

"What's he like?"

"Well, at first he was a huge ass. Seriously, Nikki, I thought I was going to have to get you to help me dispose of his body after I murdered him in cold blood. But now... I don't know. He's different. Nicer."

"Nicer how?"

"He's still a dick, but it's fun now. We bicker. He stood up for me this morning. GP was being a complete jackass and Shane defended me," Quinn's voice softened and she was smiling as she let herself into her apartment. She waved at her friends, walking passed them and straight into her room to collapse on her bed.

"Don't fall for him, Q."

"I'm not stupid!" she defended, her voice getting slightly higher in pitch and her cheeks colouring brightly.

"You kind of are. I love you to pieces, but I know you. You always fall for people you shouldn't."

It was true. Quinn was well versed in the ways of unrequited love. She fell hard for the asshole types, and they only kept her around to feel good about themselves. Knowing that someone adored you was a good confidence booster. The lack of spark she felt for nice guys was probably why she had stayed perpetually single for twenty years. It was probably why she'd stay single for twenty years after this little episode.

"You try having to act like you're in love and not have it play havoc with your heart strings," she mumbled.

"You're already into him, aren't you?"

"Maybe. A little. I don't know."

"Oh, little Quinny. Take care of your heart, okay?"

"Yes, big sister."

"When do you see him next?"

"Tonight. Group date at his friend's place. Movie night."

"Cuddle responsibly."

"Will do. Good night, seester."

"Night night."

Quinn flipped her phone shut to end the call, grabbed the nearest pillow, covered her face with it and let out a frustrated scream. Within seconds, Abby and Elaina were in the open doorway. They waited in silence until she removed the pillow. The two of them looked annoyingly happy.

"Are you beginning to realize you have an intense want to be the mother of Shane Grey's children?" Elaina intoned innocently.

"You're a dirty pirate hooker," Quinn said, shooting a glare at her friend. Then she moved her eyes to the ceiling, and her face went back to being blank. "Are you guys ready?"

"For what?" Elaina asked.

"Nate's movie night," Abby answered, and Quinn smirked, though it slid off her face as her phone started ringing again. BB Good. Shane. "Don't let us keep you from talking to your lover."

"You are also a dirty pirate hooker," Quinn sniped, then flipped open her phone. "Hello?"

"Cupcake!" Shane exclaimed.

"I _will _hang up," Quinn threatened.

"I'm here!"

"What do you mean you're here?" she asked incredulously, shooting up off the bed. Frantically she glanced in the mirror, combing her hair with her fingers. She was not equipped for surprise visits.

"I figured you'd be home by now, and that it would be easier for you if I drove."

"Right. Um, thanks."

"Tell Stan to let me up. Here he is."

There was a shuffle, and then Stan was on the line, "Miss Bradley?"

"Hi, Stan. You can let him up," Quinn instructed, practically running into her closet to find something to wear. She wished she could go in jammies. Jammies were the best movie watching wear.

"See you in a minute, cupcake," Shane said. Even though she couldn't see him, she knew he was smirking, so she hung up. Two minutes later she was still trying to find something to wear, when she felt a pair of hands grip her hips.

"I hate pants," she said seriously, her motions slowing. He laughed.

"Then don't wear any," he suggested.

"I can't just not wear pants, Shane. It's socially unacceptable," she scoffed and turned to face him. He looked amused. Also, he was wearing a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. Her face lit up. "Oh! Is it a pajama party?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Excellent!" She moved away from him and opened her pajama drawer, grabbing the pants he'd lent her the other day and a cami. She pulled a zip-up hoodie off a hanger, and smiled as she turned back to him.

"Those are mine," he stated, motioning towards the pants.

"Yeah. You're probably not getting them back," she laughed.

"They're pants. You just said you hate pants."

"I don't hate jammie pants."

"They're my pants!"

"Mine now. Out, I have to get dressed," she ordered, still grinning. He backed out, reluctantly, and she quickly changed. Finding a hair elastic, she whipped her hair up into a simple ponytail. "Ready!" she said, strolling out of her walk-in closet.

"You look cute," Shane told her. He was sitting on her bed, examining the room. Luckily, for once it was mostly clean. He gestured to a picture on her nightstand. In it she had her arms wrapped around a thin blonde girl and they both beamed at the camera. Behind them was a gorgeous lake. It was Quinn's very favourite picture. "Is that your sister?" he asked.

"Yeah. We went camping last summer for a week. Just us and our mom. It was a great week," she smiled at the memory. If she thought about it hard enough, she could still feel the sand beneath her toes and smell campfire in the air.

"You look happy."

"We were. Ready to go?" she asked. He nodded and stood, moving close to her. He wrapped his arms around her again, and she was confused. There was no one around to convince, so why did he keep touching her? He was always touching her, or kissing her, whether they were alone or not. Was he just trying to make their relationship seem natural and unforced? Or did he actually like her? Or was he just another guy who knew she was developing a little crush on him and exploiting that fact? His lips moved against hers and she lost her train of thought.

A few minutes later her bedroom door opened, and the couple jumped apart to see a shocked Abby. Quinn blushed and Shane looked a little sheepish. A smirk found its way onto Abby's features. "We're going to be late if we don't get going," she said. It was easy to tell she was restraining laughter.

"Uh. Right. Coming," Quinn choked out. She backed away from Shane and practically fled from the room.

This left Abby to stare down Shane, her smirk gone. He shuffled forward, but the small girl didn't move from the doorway to let him through. After glancing behind her to make sure Quinn was out of earshot, she said lowly, "Hurt her and you will find yourself in a lot of pain. I have a baseball bat and no morals. Got it?"

Shane nodded, eyes wide. Abby's smile was then back on her face, brighter than before, and she sauntered away to where her two friends were waiting patiently. Shane followed, pale as a ghost, and tried to stay as far away from Abby as he possibly could. Quinn looked at him questioningly, but he just shrugged as he pulled on his shoes.

"So, what movies are we watching?"

* * *

**A/N:** So? What did you think? Hopefully it didn't disappoint. Reviews are love!

Oh, and I think we'll call the pairing Squinn. Thanks to brunette987 for coming up with it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything Camp Rock related or anything you recognize from any other movie or book.

**A/N:** Um... sorry? Haha. It's been a while, hasn't it? I hope you don't all hate me. I had writer's block and I had finals to write... then I had to move. To top it off, my grandpa died just over a week ago, so I've been at home with my family grieving. He was one of my favourite people in the world, so I'm a little off kilter. If parts of this chapter are a little less than decent, that would be why.

And thank you so, so much for all of your reviews. They mean so much to me - I light up whenever I read what you have to say. You guys are amazing, and I want to hug each and every one of you.

Sorry again for the long, _long_, _LONG_ wait, guys. I hope you still enjoy it. :)

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_"Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed."_

_Michael Pritchard  
_

The car ride was mostly spent in awkward silence. Quinn, in the front passenger seat, was avoiding looking at Shane and speaking to Abby. She kept her eyes glued to the passing scenery, her cheeks still glowing with embarrassment. Abby was content just to sit and fidget – she was anxious to see Nate. Shane was still in fear of Abby, so he kept pretty quiet except to answer Elaina's occasional questions. Elaina tried to get a conversation going, but it wasn't especially successful.

"So, Quinn, are you feeling warm? You seem kind of flushed," Abby said in an innocent voice, a few minutes into the trip.

"So, Abby, are you feeling anxious? You seem pretty fidgety," Quinn asked back in the same tone. If they'd been sitting beside each other, Quinn would've elbowed her in the ribs. She turned around in the seat to glare at the now blushing Abby. Elaina just looked confused.

"Uh, guys? Did something happen that I don't know about?" she asked, eyebrows drawn together. The other two girls just shook their heads, and Quinn flipped back around in the seat to glare out the window again. "Okay?"

"We're here, ladies," Shane interrupted as he pulled into a small parking lot.

No one spoke a single word while they made their way up to Nate's apartment. Quinn was concentrated on restraining herself from poking Abby in the eye. She was still really mortified that her friend had walked in on her and Shane, especially since she had no idea what the kiss meant. She also didn't know how she was going to figure out how Shane felt, since there was absolutely no way she was going to straight out ask him. That's just not the way she did things. Even though it would cause her endless stress, she was just going to wait it out and hope he said something on his own. She didn't even really know how she felt about him, either. Ah, drama. It wasn't really fun when it was consuming her life.

A hand wrapped around hers to draw her out of her thoughts. Blinking herself back into reality, she saw that it was Shane. He looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Quinn said, forcing a smile onto her face. He didn't look convinced. She squeezed his hand to reassure him. "Seriously. Right as rain."

He still didn't believe her, but since they were standing in front of Nate's door he didn't have a chance to continue questioning her. Abby apparently didn't feel the need to knock, she just swung open the door and strolled in. Quinn's mouth dropped open in shock. How many times had Abby been here that she was comfortable enough to walk in unannounced? Obviously, Quinn was way out of the loop on the status of the Abby/Nate situation. Elaina's wide-eyed expression showed that she was just as surprised. Shane was just smirking.

"We're here!" he called as they walked in behind Abby.

Standing in the doorway, the living room was clearly visible. Quinn's face lit up. Two large, comfy looking couches were facing a big flat-screen television. On the floor, in front of the couches, there were at least twelve pillows, if not more and Quinn's grin widened - pillow pits were amazing. Off to the side was a large table, absolutely covered in all different sorts of snack foods. Chips, popcorn, chocolate, gummies... it was all there. She was pretty sure this was going to be the best movie night ever.

* * *

Quinn was hyperventilating. Clowns. Clowns were one of her biggest fears. This movie, this stupid, stupid movie, was about a killer clown. She was practically in tears, clinging to Shane like he was the only thing that was keeping her alive. He had his arms wrapped around her, but he was completely absorbed in the movie. Head buried in his shoulder, she couldn't see the screen anymore, but she could see the clown in her mind. She could still hear it, too. Shuddering, a quiet, strangled noise tore its way from her throat.

The arms around her tightened. "Quinn? What... are you okay?" he whispered. She shook her head, tears leaking from her eyes.

"She has an intense fear of clowns," Elaina announced.

"And she decided to watch _It_?" he scoffed. Quinn wanted the earth to swallow her body. She shuddered again. "Okay. Up you get. Kitchen time."

He helped her to her feet and held her tightly, supporting her, as they walked to the kitchen. The second they crossed the threshold and the swinging door swung shut, Quinn broke from his hold. She grasped tightly onto a counter, trying to control her breathing. There were still tears streaming down her face. Shane tried to soothe her by rubbing her shoulders. She let out a choked sob.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"Dis-distract me. I-I need you to... distract me. I need... I need not to th-think," she stammered. She shook her head in shame. The hands on her shoulders moved down her back, drawing light circles as they lowered. "Clowns. So... so s-stupid. I blame... _Poltergeist._" His hands were on her hips, his thumbs rubbing back and forth. He took a small step closer, meshing them together. Her heart started fluttering, and it wasn't from fear. "I was little... my sister... she made me watch it. I was so... so scared." Lips pressed behind her ear and moved down her neck. Quinn bit her lip and tilted her neck to give him more access, which he immediately took advantage of. "What are you doing?" she asked, flipping around to face him.

"Distracting you," he smirked.

She smiled. "Oh."

"Is it working?" Shane asked, his eyes hopeful.

She grinned mischievously, her eyes twinkling. "I don't know. Maybe you should keep trying."

He closed the small gap between them quickly, pressing his lips almost clumsily against hers. It started off slow and sweet, but it didn't take very long to heat up. Quinn ran her hands up his chest, squeezed his shoulders, and then tangled her hands in his hair as he deepened the kiss. His hands, calloused from playing guitar, moved up her sides, dragging her shirt along with them. She then felt his arms wrap around her waist, holding her almost too tightly - it was limiting her ability to breathe. Pushing herself up on her tiptoes, she wound her arms around his neck.

The sound of a child screaming invaded the kitchen and Quinn cringed as an image of the clown reappeared in her mind. Shane's hands trailed up and down her back, lightly tracing her spine, soothing her. His mouth moved to her neck, and he kissed and nibbled a slow path to her ear. A soft gasp escaped her as his lips hit a particularly sensitive place just below it, and he made sure to pay extra attention the the spot.

"Stop thinking," he whispered hoarsely, softly biting her earlobe and smirking at her moan.

"Stop talking," she retorted as she lightly dragged her nails across his neck and shoulders. She let out a breathy laugh as he hissed, and then he was kissing her again, and she lost her ability to process thought.

* * *

Roughly two hours later the couple was camped out on the kitchen floor, stolen snack bowls scattered around them. Quinn had stopped their little make-out session before it could get too intense because, after all, they'd only known each other for about four days. She still had no idea what was going on in his head, or even what was going on in hers, so she pushed him away and he'd only complained a little. She had then sent him into the living room to steal some goodies off of the enormous snack table while she poured them drinks. They'd spent the rest of their time laughing and talking, each trying to one-up the other with different stories.

"First TV interview, tripped as I went to shake the host's hand and ended up knocking her over. She got a concussion," Shane offered and Quinn burst out laughing. "Yeah. It was horrifying."

"Set of my first video, I lost my footing and flailed as I fell. I hit a camera man. He fell into the pool. The camera and all the footage from the day was completely ruined. The director had a fit and stormed off the set," Quinn countered and it was Shane's turn to snicker. She shook her head. "GP yelled at me for almost an hour straight. It was _swell_."

"Oh, wait, this one'll win it. Concert a few months ago for thousands of fans - our biggest audience so far. In the middle of Play My Music I trip on a cord, fly into Jason, and we both fall. We landed on top of his guitar. It broke. He yelled at me in front of everyone, all of whom were laughing."

"Oh, you poor, poor boy," Quinn giggled. "I think you win."

"Victory!" he cheered, fist-pumping the air. "What do I win?"

Quinn looked around and grabbed the closest bowl. "I can offer you a half full bowl of ripple chips?"

"Pass."

"The dust bunny living under Nate's fridge?"

"Nope."

"That's a shame, I hear he's quite friendly. I don't know, then. What do you want?"

"I want those pants back."

"No can do. I can't leave the kitchen with no pants, silly boy."

"They're my favourite pair!"

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Quinn!"

"Shane!" she mocked, laughing.

He lunged, pinning her beneath him. He started to tickle her mercilessly and she squealed, trying everything to get away but failing. She laughed until she was out of breath, and she really felt like punching him in the face. Being tickled was one of her least favourite things in the entire world. His actions slowed, and he shot a grin at her, still keeping her pinned.

"I really, really don't like you," she whined. "Bastard."

"Can I have my pants back?"

"No!"

Luckily, before he could tickle her again, the kitchen door swung open and Nate shuffled in. He stared at the two on the floor awkwardly, then at the mess surround them. He raised his eyebrows at Shane, who merely grinned sheepishly and pushed himself into a sitting position. Quinn followed his lead.

"Uh, the movie's over. Sorry about my choice of scary movies, Quinn," Nate finally said, scratching his neck.

"S'okay. No worries," she smiled back at him.

"Okay... good. We're going to start the next one. Clown free, I promise. You guys should come back out," he told them, then smirked at Shane. "Unless, you know, you're too busy."

"We'll be right out," Quinn interjected quickly before Shane could say anything. Nate laughed and nodded, backing out of the kitchen and back into the living room. "Well, that was awkward."

Abby and Elaina's laughs rang out, and Quinn would've bet a million dollars that Nate had told them exactly what he'd walked in on. She sighed and began tidying the mess she and Shane had made. After throwing a pointed glare at Shane to spur him into helping her, they were done in less than five minutes. The two strolled back into the living room to see the other four smirking, and all of them avoided looking directly at the couple. Quinn rolled her eyes, flopping into the pillow pit. Shane joined her, and she instantly curled into his side.

"What's on your neck, Q?" Elaina asked.

Quinn winced. She could hazard a guess. "What does it look like?"

"I'd say it bears a striking resemblance to a hickey," the other girl commented, amusement in her voice. Shane shook a little with silent laughter and Quinn lightly poked him in the side in annoyance.

"I guess you have your answer, then," Quinn replied. Her two friends burst into cackles, but Quinn ignored them and instead focused on the path Shane's hand was making as it rubbed up and down her arm. Someone started the movie, and she let herself drift off to the sounds of _Hot Rod_.

It had been a very long day.

* * *

**A/N: **Reviews are love!! Please don't yell at me. Please. I'm sorry it took so long.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything that has to do with Camp Rock or anything else you recognize.

**A/N:** What's this? Two chapters in the same day? See, I do love you.

This might be my favourite chapter so far. It's an interlude to speed up time, because you guys would get pretty bored if it took me thirty chapters of fluff before anything actually happened to advance the plot. This is was I came up with. I hope you like it!

I lalalove you all to pieces!

* * *

**Hot 101.1 - Radio**

_"This is Rory Samson for 101.1 radio. With us today is Shane Grey of Connect Three, answering your questions. Glad to have you here, Shane."_

_"Happy to be here."_

_"When we announced last week that you'd be appearing on the show, we received hundreds of emails and phone calls with questions, but there was a similar theme. Want to know what all your fans are dying to have answered?"_

_"Of course! Shoot."_

_"Are you dating Quinn Bradley?"_

_Laughter. "No, we're just good friends."_

_"So you're not dating, you just kiss a lot?"_

_"We're not dating."_

_"Will you be soon?"_

_"I plead the fifth."_

**What's Up? - Tabloid**

_**Shane Grey and Quinn Bradley spotted in Central Park.**_

_Really, who are they trying to kid? Looking at shots from their recent outing to Central Park, it's obvious the two are a couple. They held hands, ate ice cream, fed some ducks, and even took a ride in a carriage. If they think that isn't a date, they need to reevaluate the friendship. Friends don't kiss with tongue!_

**Twitter**

_**quinnbRADley **My guitar is looking lonely. I think it needs a new friend._

_10:11am April 16 from web_

_**realshanegrey **quinnbRADley i didnt kno you wre musically talnted._

_10:15am April 16 from web in reply to quinnbRADley_

_**quinnbRADley** realshanegrey I didn't know you couldn't spell. And we can't all rock the tambourine._

_10:17am April 16 from web in reply to realshanegrey_

_**realshanegrey **quinnbRADley i can spell, it jst takes efort. dont mock my mad tmbrine bangin skillz._

_10:18am April 16 from web in reply to quinnbRADley_

_**quinnbRADley** realshanegrey Reading that takes more effort. I don't think you should really brag about your TAMBOURINE skills, dude._

_10:20am April 16 from web in reply to realshanegrey_

_r**ealshanegrey **quinnbRADley dnt nock it till u try it. it is hrder then it looks._

_10:23am April 16 from web in reply to quinnbRADley_

_**quinnbRADley** realshanegrey I refuse to continue this conversation until you learn how to spell._

_10:24am April 16 from web in reply to realshanegrey_

_r**ealshanegrey **quinnbRADley dn't be mad, cupcake. u can'tt resist me._

_10:25am April 16 from web in reply to quinnbRADley_

_r**ealshanegrey **quinnbRADley Cupcake?_

_10:33am April 16 from web in reply to quinnbRADley_

**Good Morning New York - TV**

"_Everyone please welcome Quinn Bradley!" the talk show host boomed, and the audience cheered as Quinn bounded onto the stage with a bright smile plastered onto her face. "It's nice to see you again, Quinn!"_

_"Thank you, it's so nice to be back," she said brightly, sitting on the couch._

_"Now, tell us about your new CD," her interviewer suggested as he leaned forward in his chair._

_"It's got a harder sound, more rocky and less pop. I wrote all the songs myself, so it's like peering into my diary – everything is very personal to me. I think it showcases who I am a lot better, and what I'm all about. And it comes out next month on June twelfth!"_

_"And are there any love ballads about a Mr. Grey on it?"_

_Quinn laughed, shaking her head. "Nope, I'm afraid not."_

_"Now, there's a lot of gossip floating around about you and Shane. Care to put it to rest? Are you two dating?"_

_"Oh, gosh, no. He's a great guy, though. Anyone would be really lucky to date him."_

_"But you're not really lucky?"_

_"Not that lucky, no. We're just good friends."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Uh, yeah," she laughed. "Pretty positive."_

**The Scoop - Tabloid**

_**Three Squinn sightings! They just don't quit.**_

_This week our favourite hot couple took a trip to a music store. They spent two hours in the shop, testing out instruments and browsing through music. When they were spotted leaving, Quinn was shaking a newly purchased tambourine at Shane, laughing. Is he going to give her banging lessons? We'll keep you updated!_

_A couple days later the two were again sighted, this time at the Zoo. Shane kept his arm wrapped around Miss Bradley's shoulders all afternoon and both were all smiles. They kept each other laughing throughout the day, and sources say Shane calls Quinn 'cupcake'. It's so cute it makes us gag, and apparently does the same to the pastry: Shane will probably have bruises from the amount of times she playfully hit him after the endearment was uttered._

_Then another dinner at Oasis, which seems to be a favourite spot for them._

_They might as well just come out about their relationship. They're doing a horrible job of trying to hide it._

**Delve Deep - Tabloid**

_**Radio interview cracks the tight lipped Squinn.**_

_Last week, a radio station in San Francisco aired an interview of Quinn Bradley, who accidentally let her relationship status slip. While Quinn was fielding questions like a pro, Shane Grey's voice was heard yelling in the background. What did he say?_

_"You baked me cookies? You have got to be the best girlfriend I have ever had."_

_That's right, folks. Girlfriend. Quinn called him an idiot and told him to say hi to San Fran._

_So, no surprise, our favourite summer couple is a real, bona fide couple. Did anyone have any doubts? A video is posted on YouTube with the recording of the interview._

**Twitter**

**_realshanegrey_**_ i'm trying to eat thirteen cookies without getting nagged._

_6:32pm July 2 from txt_

**_quinnbRADley_**_ realshanegrey You probably shouldn't've posted it on here, then. Get away from the cookies or I won't make more. Ever._

_6:35pm July 2 from web in reply to realshanegrey_

_**realshanegrey **quinnbRADley are you hiding to check your twitter??_

_6:36pm July 2 from txt in reply to quinnbRADley_

_**quinnbRADley** realshanegrey And my e-mail. Put that cookie down, Shane Michael, or you will regret it. I know you have one._

_6:38pm July 2 from web in reply to realshanegrey_

_**realshanegrey** quinnbRADley you can't prove it._

_6:40pm July 2 from txt in reply to quinnbRADley_

_**quinnbRADley** realshanegrey I made them, I can just count how many are left. _

_6:41pm July 2 from web in reply to realshanegrey_

_**quinnbRADley** Tip: cookie crumbs on your shirt are a pretty good hint that you've been eating cookies. I win._

_6:42pm July 2 from txt_

**Late Night with Michelle Knorble - TV**

_"So, you and Shane Grey were finally outed," the interviewer commented._

_"Yeah, I guess we were."_

_"Why did you deny it for so long?"_

_"Well, it was a new relationship. And it's my first relationship. And his fangirls - I'm kind of afraid of them attacking me on the street for stealing him away. I guess I just didn't want to jinx it, or have the media hounding us every step of the way. It didn't really work though, did it?" she laughed._

_"No, not at all. It just made us all watch you more. How long have you two actually been a couple?"_

_"Well, I guess our first date would be his concert back in April. So it's been... three months, about."_

_"You two are very cute together."_

_"Oh, well, thanks," Quinn said, blushing furiously._

_"Favourite date?"_

_"It would probably have to be... oh! We somehow found some free time and he took me to Disney World for a weekend. It was amazing. I love rides. I love Disney. Shane's pretty cool, too. So it was just an amazing, out-of-this-world time. I'm pretty sure I'll never go on a date that tops it."_

_"Speaking of tops, your new record has skyrocketed on the charts, hasn't it?"_

_Quinn grinned. "Yes. It's been at number one on Billboard for the last week."_

**Twitter**

_**realshanegrey **tomorrow is my birthday. my 23rd birthday. i want a hippopotamus._

_7:46pm August 17 from web_

_**quinnbRADley **realshanegrey You're not getting one. Please be on time tomorrow._

_7:55pm August 17 from web in reply to realshanegrey_

_**realshanegrey **quinnbRADley it's my birthday. i'll be late if i want to._

_7:59pm August 17 from web in reply to quinnbRADley_

_**quinnbRADley **realshanegrey You can cry if you want to, too, Lesley._

_8:02pm August 17 from web in reply to realshanegrey_

_**realshanegrey **quinnbRADley clever._

_8:03pm August 17 from web in reply to quinnbRADley_

_**quinnbRADley** realshanegrey Mama always said I was gifted. Seriously. Be on time._

_8:05pm August 17 from web in reply to realshanegrey_

_**realshanegrey **quinnbRADley ya, ok._

_8:09pm August 17 from web in reply to quinnbRADley_

_

* * *

_**A/N:** Reviews are love!! Love me! Hahaha. And... follow me on Twitter! twitter . com / isagiggler

=)


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, definitely still don't own any Camp Rock related stuff.

**A/N:** Heeyyyy guys! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, again, you all make my heart sing. =) I'm so happy that you liked chapter eight. I was nervous about it. This is very happy-making!

This chapter wasn't up quite as quickly as I was hoping, and it isn't quite as long as most. It's pure fluff, which is hard for me to write because I have no fluffy experiences to go off of in my head. Luckily for you, chapter ten has the appearance of some angst, and thus is already half written. It really should be up within a week. Seriously this time.

Anyway. I hope you enjoy some good ol' Squinn fluff. =)

Annnnnd... just a little P.S. - This chapter wasn't beta-d and it's five o'clock in the morning. Sorry for any type of errors that may occur, I hope you'll forgive me.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

"_Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words."_

_Plautus _

Normally when Quinn announced that she'd slaved away over the hot stove all day, she'd really just microwaved something she'd found in the fridge. This time she actually had been in the kitchen all day, and she'd decided if Shane didn't appreciate what she'd done she would push him down a flight of stairs. The entire room was a huge mess, ingredients covering every inch of counter space. There was flour all over the floor from when the bag had attacked her and batter dripped along the granite counter tops. Quinn was standing triumphantly in the middle of it all, grinning. She felt like a cooking goddess.

Cookies, brownies, and two dozen cupcakes had taken up her morning. Abby and Elaina had woken up with their mouths watering, and Quinn practically had to beat them with her wooden spoon to keep them off of the desserts. That's when the flour bag had 'attacked' her – both of her friends had 'accidentally' grabbed large handfuls of the white powder to throw at her. Then they'd laughed and ran away, vacating the apartment, and Quinn hadn't seen them since. She'd started preparing the main course around one in the afternoon, since the pork roast had to be in the oven for about four hours.

Now everything was ready, and she was almost giddy with excitement. Between times of basting the roast every half hour, she'd been able to doll herself up fairly nicely. She'd left her dark hair down and straightened it, added some light make-up, and wiggled into her favourite sundress. Hopefully, Shane's socks would be knocked right off.

"Cuuupcake! I'm here!" his voice yelled from the entryway. She'd informed Stan earlier just to let the birthday boy in, since she wasn't entirely sure if she'd be able to answer the door. "On time and everything. It smells delicious in here, did you hire a cook? Where are you?"

"Kitchen!" she called back, still smiling. Turning around to greet him, she smirked as his mouth dropped open in shock. "Happy birthday, Shane."

"You look... gorgeous," he told her, moving closer to wrap her in his arms. She happily returned the hug, giving him a light peck on the cheek. They were both grinning like fools as they pulled apart. "So, did you hire a cook?"

"No. This is all homemade."

"Really? What are we having?"

"Cranberry pork roast, which is a family recipe, with rice and broccoli. And I made a lot of stuff for dessert, so that you can take some home with you. Cookies, brownies and cupcakes."

"You seriously made this yourself? No help?"

"Yes, Shane," she said, rolling her eyes. "I made all of it."

"Marry me."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."

"Be the mother of my children," he intoned, pulling her back into another tight hug. Again she let out a soft laugh, more than happy to linger in the embrace. Shane began to slowly sway, nuzzling into her hair as he hummed a simple melody. Those stereotypical butterflies erupted in Quinn's stomach, and she was glad Shane couldn't see her rapidly colouring face. Under it all, she was becoming more and more certain that he was stealing her heart, and she realized she'd stopped even pretending to fight it. "Quinn?  
"Hmm?"  
"I... I really like you," he nervously whispered into her ear, so quiet she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "I think we can make us actually work."  
She pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. They looked hopeful. They looked sincere. Her face broke out into a wide smile. "Okay, let's try," she murmured. Their lips met softly, and both could feel the other smiling into the kiss. It wasn't until the oven timer beeped that they remembered anything other than being in their own private world.

* * *

"So, where's my hippopotamus?"

Following dinner and after cleaning the kitchen, the couple had relocated into the living room. They were sprawled out on one of the couches, Quinn's head in Shane's lap, his fingers tangled in her hair. She smirked and cracked her eyes open to glance at his ever-present smirk. Pulling a look of sorrow onto her features, she bit her lip.

"I'm afraid they were all out of hippos at the Happy Hippopotamus Store. There seems to be a shortage of them, and the store has been out of them for weeks. I'm sorry, it's really quite unfortunate."

"Aw, shucks. That was my only birthday wish."

"I did get you something, though. Well, I made you something. And it took me a long ass time, too, so you'd better appreciate it," she informed him, pushing herself up and off the couch. She disappeared into her bedroom for a moment, then reappeared with a large wrapped package. Shane's eyes lit up as she placed it on his lap.

"What is it?"

"Open it, Einstein."

He ripped through the wrapping paper with childlike enthusiasm, practically tearing the entire box apart in his excitement. His hands dug through the Styrofoam peanuts that filled the package, looking quite confused when he came up empty handed. Quinn gestured for him to keep searching, and he started throwing the bits of foam at her in large handfuls.

"Hey! Do you know how annoying those things are to clean up?" she whined, only to have the entire box dumped over her head. "Oh, very mature, jerk."

"It's my birthday, I can do what I want, cupcake," he laughed. In his hand was a CD case. Quinn had personally designed everything about it. The cover was full of clippings from various tabloids about them, and if he flipped through the booklet inside, the pages were all plastered with pictures of the two of them. On the back, instead of listing track names, she had taken lyrics from each of the songs to display a message:

**This plan of mine is oh so very lame.**

**I got a lot to say to you,**

**And I am contemplating matters:**

**I don't know what I want.**

{You}** told me I was beautiful,**

{Said}** my smile was your favourite kind of smile,**

**And I kissed your face.**

**True, it may seem like a stretch, but**

**I'm falling like I never fell before.**

**Forget what we're told**

{I}** promise I'll always be there for you.**

**I bet you think I'm kidding;**

**It's too cliché.**

**You gotta spend some time with me:**

**I wanna be your lover.**

**Kiss me**

**When we are alone.**

**I know that I'll be leaving soon;**

**Miss me when I'm gone.**

"I know it isn't much, but you're insanely hard to shop for," Quinn told him, scratching her neck nervously as he read through the lyrics. "You hate it, don't you? I could get you something else. Search for a hippo, maybe?"

"So, you want to be my lover?" Shane asked, effectively shutting her up as his eyes started twinkling mischievously.

She rolled her eyes. Of course that would be the one thing he'd pick up on. "Ah... yes. Eventually. Soon."

"How about now?"

"Ooo, very romantic," she scoffed. "You're sweeping me right off my feet."

"It's my birthday, I don't have to be romantic."

"Do you have to do anything on your birthday?"

"No."

"Hmm."

"So? How about now?" he persisted.

"No."

"How come?"

"Because I have to be on a plane soon and won't have time to take a shower before you drop me off at the airport. I'm not greeting my family smelling like sex."

"Do you have to go today? Maybe you could switch your flight until tomorrow. It's my birthday."

"Really, I hadn't heard. Listen, you're lucky that I'm here for your birthday at all. Nicole's wedding is in four days. I'm afraid to go near my phone in case she crawls through the line and strangles me to death for not being there yet."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" he asked, playing with a piece of her hair.

"It's a little late for you to switch stuff around now, Shane. You can't skip out of a charity concert. That'd pretty much guarantee you a one-way ticket to Hell. I'd feel pretty horrible if I condemned you to an afterlife of brimstone and fire just so you could be my family buffer."

"I like s'mores."

She snorted. "I'm pretty sure there are no marshmallows in Hell."

"Damn."

* * *

"Please try to stay out of any sort of troublesome shenanigans while I'm gone," Quinn pleaded as she and Shane stood in line before the security check. Their arms were wrapped loosely around each others' waists, looking picture perfect for the paparazzi that were furiously snapping photographs and firing off questions. The couple diligently ignored everyone but each other.

"You wound me, cupcake. What type of shenanigans can I get up to in a week?" asked Shane, fake pout fully in place.

"I'm sure you'll find something. Do your best to behave, okay?"

"Yes, mother."

"I'll miss you," she told him quietly. "Seriously. We haven't gone more than two days without seeing each other for four months. Who will I mock?"

"You'll find some poor, unsuspecting guy. Just make sure he doesn't steal you away, okay?" he replied, tightening his arms around her and drawing her as close as he could.

"I lived there boyfriend-free for years, dude. I'm fairly certain one insanely busy week won't see the miraculous growth of any new prospects."

"You never know."

"Just shut up and kiss me so I can leave, please," she snarked, grinning. He happily complied, prompting another frenzy of camera flashes. Both wore smiles when they finally pulled apart, and Shane slid her carry-on bag off of his shoulder and onto hers. "Well, here's looking at you, kid."

"Have fun. Say hi to the family for me."

"Will do. Keep out of trouble."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll miss you, cupcake."

Quinn gave him one last kiss to the cheek before quickly striding through security. She'd flown enough to know the drill backwards and forwards. Shoes off, belt off, bag on the conveyor. When she was finished, she looked back to see Shane already gone, and different couples were now tearfully saying their goodbyes. She smiled as she began walking toward her gate.

Shane had really, really grown on her. A few months ago she would never have guessed that she'd be in this position, fully ready to completely fall for the obnoxious rock star. Somehow he'd wormed his way into her heart, and she was now glad that GP was such an interfering little shit. Without him and the label playing their slightly twisted game of cupid, Quinn never would have had anything to do with the boy.

Of course, as much as she liked him, she was still quite cynical of this new relationship that they had formed from the sham. After all, even if they did end up in that giddy, always happy, I-can't-live-without-you type of love, the label still had control. Her bosses could snap their fingers at any sort of whim that floated through their shiny, bald heads, and then Quinn would be nursing her broken heart back to health. It would probably yield some killer songs, though.

The decision was no longer up to her. If she fell, she fell, and she wouldn't be able to stop it. All she could do was keep little bits of protection surrounding her heart, do some damage control in case things turned out badly. She needed an overly long lecture/pep talk from her sister.

Which meant it was a good thing she was going home.

* * *

**A/N:** Reviews are love! I lalalove you all! Ask if you'd like to know what songs Quinn used on the CD. =)


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